


Flower Crowns and Brambles

by CJ_Writes



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Multi, Narrartor Chara, Narrator!Chara, flavor text chara
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-01-06 18:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18394217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CJ_Writes/pseuds/CJ_Writes
Summary: You’re nothing but a distant echo, all but forgotten by those you care for most. Just a whisper of somthing that became far, far bigger than yourself.(A collection of fleshed out Narrator!Chara lines.)





	1. Once Upon A Time

**~~~~~~~~~~~~Name the fallen human**

**Chara**

You only continue to exist from a deafening  _thump_. 

Even in the cold stone and soil, you couldn’t have left this bitter world. 

Even as you watch the flower, with a voice that reminds you of butterscotch, bouquets and the dust collecting on Asgore’s old piano; tears through your Soul.

As your mother, your true mother. The one you had loved so, looks right past you. 

As you follow her line of vision, you see it.

You see _them._

_Frisk._


	2. Fallen Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almost flinching as Frisk barrels through you, going to crinkle perhaps some of the crispiest leaves you’ve seen. You hide the smile playing on your non-existent lips with with a huff.

Your charge is a small child with squishy cheeks, missing teeth, and is probably no older than seven.

They whine like some goody-two-shoes when you finally, _finally_ , usher them to the next room after over and hour of waiting. As you peer back, you see that freakish flower staring right through your middle, eyes boring into the back of Frisk’s head.

They don't notice.

You urge them faster.

You scan the next room, Frisk is talking to a Froggit. Or at least trying.

All those days of Mother teaching you the tongue of every monster did not turn out to be a waste. You are no doubt rusty, but still convey the general message to Frisk.

Almost flinching as Frisk barrels through you, going to crinkle perhaps some of the crispiest leaves you’ve seen. You hide the smile playing on your non-existent lips with with a huff.

*Playfully crinkling through the leaves fills you with determination.

Shaking your head, you peer back into the long room.

The flower is gone.


	3. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home is the fur in the drain, the immaculate stovetop, the bar of brand name chocolate in the fridge that’s only purpose is to ease the heartaches of a sentimental old goat.

Home, oh how you missed Home.

Home is warmth, the smell of baking, and a fire warming the reading chair. 

Home is _H_ _is_ old bed and toys; Toriel reading a silly book she has already burnt to her memory thousands of times over, giggling as she shares equally silly facts to the child curled up with their head on her shoulder. 

Home is watching them try to reach and take the burning pie into their grubby little hands, despite your protests that it is cooling.

Home is the fur in the drain, the immaculate stovetop, the bar of brand name chocolate in the fridge that’s only purpose is to ease the heartaches of a sentimental old goat.

Home is the slice of pie beside them upon the bleak hours of waking. 

Home is a mirror, just high enough they can see the scuffs on their round cheeks, as they can see the face of a fallen child.

As, despite yourself, you smile; pointing to their reflection in the mirror and exclaim,

”It’s you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Sorry it’s been a bit! Thank you so much for reading!)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
